Playing With Fire
by KNG. CAIRO
Summary: In which Rachel becomes the Dominant to a vicious, very dangerous Submissive who's allegedly killed her previous Dominant. D/S BDSM with an odd twist. Ft. Lion!Quinn, Brittana, possIble G!p. Warning: Bondage, Masochism, Sadism, may occur. (No Bestiality.) Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

_Playing with Fire_

"Will you please stop _growling_ at him? He's not doing anything."

Rachel scolds the blonde woman leaning against the metal lockers as she grabs the necessary books for her next class. Quinn huffs in annoyance, ignoring her completely as she glares at the tall, lanky boy watching Rachel with love sick eyes down the hall. His Dominatrix is blissfully unaware of her Sub's actions.

A deep, rumbling growl erupts in Quinn's chest as her eyes flash molten gold. Elongated canines peek over her rosy lips as she clenches her teeth together. Rachel decides now is the time to step. She steps directly in front of her Sub, trying to block her view of the boy, but Rachel's barely chest level in height with Quinn.

Quinn's nearly five feet nine inches of raw muscle, but didn't lack the curves that came with adolescence at all. With her long, golden blonde hair, aristocratically elegant bone structure, and deep hazel eyes, she was certainly a looker. But looks can be deceiving because as angelic as Quinn looks, she's the total opposite.

"Quinn, change," Rachel says lowly, "_Now_."

Quinn's intense golden eyes meet Rachel's soft, chocolate orbs. Her posture and signature scowl screams disobedience and defiance. Her muscles tense rigidly, veins protruding from her arms at the sheer force of her clenched fists. She's dangerously beautiful when she's losing control. But Rachel is her Dom; she is obligated to obey her commands no matter how much she despises it.

With a frustrated snort and a slight spasm of her limbs, Quinn shifts. She kneels before her Dom, golden brown fur sprouting from pale skin as she transforms into her Submissive form, a magnificent lioness. The lioness glares at Rachel with ferocious intensity, sitting on rim rod straight on her haunches.

In this D/S world, Submissive humans have the ability to shift into various animals called the Submissive Form. Quinn's a lioness, and the other Submissive, Finn, is a rather lanky brown bear. As fierce as the animal or the person may be, they are always submissive to their dominant counter parts. Dom's were strictly human with no special abilities like their subs.

Female Subs also have the ability to change their reproductive organs to better suit their Dom's preferences. A female Sub might change her organs to perform different types of stimulation for her female Dom, or for an adventurous male Dom. Also, claimed Subs usually wear a collar to signal ownership to a Dom. The collar is made of special technology and especially for them. Only their Dom can remove the collar.

D/S relationships come in many forms. A Dominant female may have a Submissive male, A Dominant male may have a Submissive female, A Dominant female may have a Submissive female, and a Dominant male may have a Submissive male.

Rachel came from a Dominant female mother and a Submissive father, but her parents weren't ready for a child so they gave her to another Dom and Sub, Leroy and Hiram. Hiram is her Dominant father and Leroy is her Submissive.

Quinn came from a Dominant male father and a Submissive female mother.

Children come in different ways all the time. A child coming from a Dominant female and a Submissive female wasn't unheard of, but it was rare. If a pregnancy occurs during a f/f d/s relationship, the child will always be born a female because both women lack the genetic code to produce male children, despite being able to conjure male organs.

A Dominant and Submissive are recognized immediately after birth by a small tattoo that would eventually grow in size with the child located in various places on their bodies. A dominant has a tattoo of silver key and a submissive has a tattoo of a golden lock. Rachel's is located on her neck, about the length of her ring finger. Quinn's is located on her ribcage.

Startled out of her thoughts by an impatient growl from Quinn, Rachel shuts her locker and gives a small yelp of protest as the lion snatches the textbook from her hand and grips it in her powerful jaws. She flicks her tail in annoyance before pressing her head into the back of Rachel's bare leg to get her moving. She growls at anyone who walked to close to the brunette.

Rachel's been Quinn's Dom for about two weeks. She was chosen after Quinn's former Dom died due to unknown causes. Rumor has it that _Quinn_ killed her, but with no evidence it was just a rumor. An Unclaimed Submissive was frowned upon. A sub should be claimed by their adolescence. Their relationship was strange to say the least. Quinn didn't particularly like to be touched by anyone, only tolerating Rachel's. She's been known to bite.

Rachel, despite being a Dominant, was constantly bullied by the other Dominants and their Subs, but no one did it when Quinn was around. Quinn hasn't been collared yet either. She wants Quinn to accept it and not to be forced to put it on. After all, D/S relationships lived on trust. She didn't believe Quinn killed her former Dom. She glances briefly at the sulking lioness, her giant paws and long nails clicking on the marble floor of McKinley High: School for BDSM and D/S.

There were quite a few couples who refused to participate in D/S relations, those were called Norms.

"Quinn, behave." Rachel says as she stops at her class and takes the book out of Quinn's jaws, frowning at the saliva coating the spine. "I don't want to have to punish you later."

The lioness snorts, shifting back into her human form and looking down at Rachel with blazing eyes, but replies an almost silent, "Yes, _Mistress_."

She turns on her heels and makes her way to the lower level, where the Sub's classes are, but not before giving a warning growl to Finn as she passes him, smirking when the distinctive smell of urine invades her nostrils.

* * *

**_Whether it be G!p or not it's up to you all, it can be one or the other or it can alternate. R&R (Shoutout MsJoker...) _**


	2. Chapter 2

_Rachel_

Rachel takes a deep breath before entering the cool classroom, stretching her lips into a wide, radiant smile. She practically skips into the room, greeting her instructor with a polite nod as she looks for a seat. She sits down at the table in the front of the classroom, next to a blonde who briefly eyes her in disgust before getting up and sitting herself elsewhere.

Rachel, despite feeling hurt, folds her hands neatly and crosses her legs as she opens her book to the page written on the board. Slowly, Dom students begin filing inside of the room, laughing and joking gently amongst each other. They fill in the seats in the large classroom, but taking special care _not_ to be seated next to Rachel Berry.

A stunning red-head growls in contempt as she slides in beside Rachel, the only available seat left. She sits as far away from the tiny brunette as possible, practically on the edge of the table.

"Okay, you all. I have a very special assignment for you this week." Their instructor, an elegant Dominant woman with dusky skin and stunning blue eyes announces as she enters the classroom. She wore a beautiful tailored suit and creamy heels, her dark hair tied into an elegant bun with a few strands framing her pretty face. "Now, this may be done separately or in pairs, but I do not want identical papers, understand?" She says pointedly.

The Dom students nod. "Find your partners if you wish. Make it snappy."

Soon enough, every student is paired up except for the red-head and Rachel. Their instructor raises an elegant brow. "I assume you are working together?"

The red-head scoffs. "Hell no, I'd rather _drink acid_ then be _paired_ with this loser. She doesn't even deserve to be here! She's a _disgrace_ to Dominants!"

Rachel feels her heart break a little in her chest as the other students voice their agreement. Clenching her tiny fists against the fabric of her skirt, she waits for the students to settle down.

But the red-head isn't quite finished. "I don't even know how _she_ was chosen to be Quinn Fabray's Dominant in the first place. Quinn needs a _real_ Dominant. Not a short, cross-dressing, Broadway obsessed Diva who's own _mom_ didn't even want her."

The instructor does nothing to quiet the young Dominants' yowls of approval at the red-head's statement. She merely watches Rachel with an unreadable expression. Rachel sucks in a sharp breath, lifts her chin, and with all her might, smiles politely at her instructor. "May I use the restroom?"

The instructor simply nods her head and the tiny brunette swiftly gathers her bag and exits the room, ignoring the hostile hisses and derogatory comments that follow her.

* * *

She finds herself on the bleachers above the football field. It's chilly outside, the fall air nipped at her bare arms and legs. She sniffled, but it wasn't from the cold. She doesn't want to go back to class. It was one thing to be talked about behind her back, but it was another to be humiliated face to face.

She perks up when she spots a figure on the field.

It's a girl, with long blonde hair that fell into golden waves to her mid back. She's barefoot, clad in a beautiful white sundress. She's standing completely still on the field, her head darting to the left and then the right rapidly, as if she's expecting something to jump out at her. Rachel watches her curiously.

Suddenly, the girl screeches.

A large, magnificent horse explodes from behind the bleachers and charges toward the girl, who gives a delighted scream as she darts away. Rachel was ready to call for help, but halts when the beautiful horse simply trots behind the blonde girl and noses her gently in her back, causing her to topple over softly.

The blonde girl giggles as the horse brings its massive head down near her own, wrapping her arms around its thick neck and pulling herself up. She hugs it tightly, tangling her hands through its thick, black mane.

Rachel takes a closer look at the horse. It's was huge, even taller than the blonde girl it was cuddled against and undoubtedly would tower over herself. It had fur darker as a night with no stars. Its mane was so long, it nearly touched the grass beneath its massive hooves and had a red rose braided near its ear. Its tail was just as long, but it was tied into two thick braids with two more roses meeting at the ends. It had a broad, white stripe running down its nose and a large, brown collar decorated with feathers and intricate patterns around its neck.

Rachel watches the interaction between woman and beast carefully. She watches in fascination as the blonde runs her hands all over its shiny black coat and the beast in turn nuzzles her head affectionately, softly nipping her face and bare shoulders.

The beast suddenly sniffs the air and shakes its massive head, backing away from the blonde and glaring pointedly at Rachel. It gives a neigh, scraping its massive hooves on the grass as if it's ready to charge. The blonde turns to see what's gotten her horse so distressed. Bright blue eyes lock with Rachel's and Rachel tenses immediately. But the girl smiles warmly and skips toward her.

The horse barks its disapproval, making a show of sitting turning around and ignoring Rachel. "Santana, don't be rude." The blonde chided softly. "Come and say hello."

The horse, Santana, parks her rump against the soft grass, resembling an obedient dog and turns her head to the side as if trying to ignore them. "Don't mind her, she can be such a _baby_ at times."

The blonde whispers loudly, making Rachel giggle nervously. She's obviously a Dominant and they've made it clear they don't want anything to do with her. She's never really seen the blonde around._ Maybe she's new?_ She couldn't be certain. She usually spends most of her time alone with Quinn, who takes her Sub form and curls up near Rachel's leg as Rachel tells her about her day or about Broadway musicals. Quinn's never one to engage in conversation in human form anyway, but she makes an excellent listener even if she just tuned Rachel out.

"I'm Brittany by the way, and this is Santana." Brittany says, sticking out her hand. Rachel takes it without hesitation, trusting the warmth of the girl's eyes.

"I'm Rachel, Rachel Berry."

Brittany perks up even more, if it were even possible. "You mean as in_ Quinn Fabray's_ Dom?"

"Yes."

"I've met Quinn! She's _so_ pretty. She looks like a cat I had when I was seven. Her name was Simba even though Simba was a boy. I wanted to squeeze her to death, but she's very big and Santana doesn't like her. Well, Santana doesn't like anyone.-"A whiny of approval from the horse, "- but she's awesome once you get to know her. She's a draft horse, not a quarter horse; she hates it when people call her that.

"Hello." Rachel says to the sulking horse, which lifts her right hoof and studies it as if she's examining her nails. "Do you want to touch her?"

Santana shoots off the ground at record speed and frolics around like a show horse, dancing around on the tips of her hooves while shaking her head from side to side. "She doesn't seem to like me very much." Rachel says, feeling hollow once again.

"She's like that with everyone, but she's harmless I promise. Come on!" She grabs the little brunette's hand and drags her over to the frolicking horse. Brittany gives her a soft command to which she stops immediately and lifts her left hoof. Brittany brings Rachel close enough to where she can smell the horse's hide. It was warm and earthy and she briefly gets a closer look at the collar, which is actually made to look like a dream catcher and hangs down to her broad chest. It's beautiful.

"Be nice," Brittany scolds the beast, who gives a very humanlike roll of her dark eyes. "Go ahead."

Rachel shakily lifts her hand and runs it down Santana's snout. Her coat is soft as a feather and smooth as silk. She gets a bit braver, stepping closer to Santana and pressing her other hand against her chest, where a strong heart beats under her palms. Santana snorts, but slowly lowers her head so Rachel can reach her ears.

After a few moments, the bell rings, signaling time for their next class. Rachel curses softly to herself when she realizes she's quite far and won't make it even if she ran. Brittany seems to pick up on her thoughts. "Santana can give you a ride, what class do you have?"

Santana tilts her head and takes a step back, shooting Brittany a 'do I look like a fucking horse- never mind-'look.

"Oh no its-"

"It'll be fine. She hasn't bitten you _yet_! That means she likes you!" Brittany says as she climbs onto Santana's broad back with the agility and grace of someone who did it often. She extended her hand with a friendly smile. "Come on." She gently presses her foot into Santana's side, signaling for the horse to kneel a bit so Rachel can get on.

Taking Brittany's hand and swinging her leg over her back, she briefly curses when she realizes she's wearing a skirt, but getting to class on time to maintain a perfect attendance record is more important than her modesty.

She's not even all the way on when Santana rears up like a wild stallion and charges toward the school. "What class?"

"English!" She shouts over the wind and pounding hooves.

She wraps her arms tightly around Brittany's waist while Brittany grips Santana's mane tightly but gently. Rachel lets a smile grace her features.

She thinks she's_ finally_ made a friend, after nearly _sixteen_ years without any. She can't wait to tell a certain Lioness.

* * *

**_know it's short, but I wanted to introduce Brittany and Santana before I really got into the plot and details. R&R._**


	3. Brown Eyes

_She ran her fingers gently over the top of Quinn's head, ruffling her ears before moving down the chiseled jaw and scratching beneath her chin. The lioness purred in content, moving her head from her paws and resting it in her dominant's lap, inhaling her unique scent of raspberries and cashmere._

_Her melodic chuckles were carried away by the cool spring breeze, melting into the lazy sunset. Quinn's fur nearly blended in with the sand beneath her massive form, only slightly darker and held red and brownish tints. She watched the sun sink beneath the horizon through half lidded hazel eyes, listening to her mistress's gentle humming._

_They watched in peaceful silence as a few children played in the ocean's gentle currents, laughing and squealing joyously while splashing each other with the warm water. One of the children, a small boy with curly brown hair, spotted the lioness curled up on the beach, and sucked in a breath in astonishment. He's heard stories about the people who could change into animals at will, but he had never seen one in real life._

_Besides, if it were a real lioness, it would have already eaten the girl._

_Sparked by an overwhelming curiosity, he abandoned the game with his friends and jogged to the shore. He walked cautiously towards the couple, fiddling with his tiny fingers nervously. Would the pretty woman let him pet the lion? He desperately wanted too. He would be the coolest boy at school if he did! Even cooler than Eli Draughty, who could hold himself upright on his hands for ten minutes straight._

_"Excuse me," he started shyly, but remembering the manners his mother taught him, "can I pet your lion?"_

_The woman, very tiny but very pretty smiled warmly at him, easing some of his nerves. She had long dark brown hair and large brown eyes. Her smile was wide and radiant, it made him feel warm and tingly inside. He liked this woman. He watched excitedly as the lion picked her head up. He knew it was a female because male lions had scruffy manes._

_"It's up to her." The pretty woman said softly. "What's your name?"_

_"My name is Jonathan! Can I pet you, lion?" He asked the animal, who briefly glanced at her mistress for approval despite the fact she had left it entirely up to her. Her mistress simply nodded her head in acceptance._

_Quinn removed her broad head from the small woman's lap, sitting on her haunches and bowing her head to accommodate the boy's height. He yelped in delight, bravely touching the Quinn's muzzle. She licked his hand in encouragement. He got a little braver, stepping closer to the creature and using both of his chubby hands to ruffle her ears._

_His friends watched in amazement as Jonathan came nose to nose with a man-eating lion and stroked its fur like it was a fluffy kitten. They wanted to join him, but feared what their parents would do if they found out they were associating with the 'shape shifters.' Their parents hated them and would certainly punish them if they witnessed the scene. Jonathan, loveable little Jonathan, could never hate anything._

_Quinn licked the boy's cheek when he finally pulled back his hands, albeit reluctantly, but did nonetheless. His cheeks were flushed and he opened his mouth to say something._

_"Jonathan! What on earth are you doing? Get away from that beast!" A rough, masculine voice shouted, startling the tiny boy from his reverie._

_He stumbled away from the couple just as his father, a burly curly haired man with harsh black eyes, roughly grabbed him by his swim trunks. He pulled his son into his arms and glared at Quinn, who growled warningly, moving to stand in front of her mistress in case the man became violent._

_He simply curled his lip in disgust. "Leave my son alone. How dare you try and defile him with your wicked ways you demon! You're a freak!"_

_Quinn's mistress tugged on her sub's collar gently but firmly, hooking her finger underneath the leather material and tugging her backward. "Hush." She commanded when Quinn's growls became louder and more pronounced. She looked back at the man with level eyes and a neutral expression. "He only wanted to pet her. He's done nothing wrong."_

_The man's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "He's done nothing wrong? It's a freak! It could've bitten his hand off and you say he's done nothing wrong! Your kind isn't welcome here! Go back to the depths of hell in which you've crawled out of, and take that…that beast with you!"_

_Shifting into her human form, standing at nearly six feet tall, Quinn clenched her fists in warning once again. She wouldn't dare harm a man in the presence of a child, but she wouldn't let him insult her mistress either. "Watch your tongue." Her voice was impossibly soft, like honey or caramel over a sweet treat, angelic and melodious, but tinged with the venom of a rattlesnake._

_Her dominant tugged on the back of Quinn's black shirt, placing two small hands on her chest and pushing her away from the man and his sobbing child, though his fear was not invoked by Quinn or her mistress. He clutched feebly at his father's arms. He didn't want his father to hurt the two pretty women._

_"Quinn, shift back and lie down. Do not make a sound." Her mistress's gentle voice cooed into her ear. Quinn looked at her, defiance in her features and anger in her posture._

_"But-"_

_"Just do as I say."_

_Clenching her teeth and exhaling furiously from her nostrils, Quinn does as her mistress says. Shifting into the beautiful beast once more, Quinn plopped roughly in the sand and placed her head on her paws, but extended her claws just in case the man tried to be funny._

_Her mistress, so small and so delicate, stepped in front of her and smiled politely at the man._

_"We shall take our leave."_

_"Good-riddance, don't show your faces back here or you'll be sorry! One day the world will see just how disgusting your ways of living are! Controlling and having relations with these beasts is sick and wrong! And between two women nonetheless! You're going to rot in hell!" With one last snarl and a very disrespectful spewing of saliva from his thin lips, he turned on his heel and walked away. Jonathan, despite a possible punishment, waved farewell to the pretty woman and her lion._

_When they were gone, Quinn's mistress looked sharply at her Submissive, who flicked her tail irritably. She rubbed her temples, pushing chocolate locks away from expressive brown eyes. She kneeled down to Quinn's level and took her face in her hands. She stared into those green eyes flecked with gold tendrils intensely. "You have to learn to control your temper, Quinn."_

_She pressed her forehead to the lion's closing her eyes and inhaling her musky scent. "If you lose control and hurt a Norm, they'll take you away from me. They'll tie you up and put you to sleep like an animal, Quinn! And there's nothing I will be able to do."_

_Quinn's expression softened as she licked her mistress's nose. She buried her head into her dominant's chest._

_"I love you, you big furball."_

* * *

Quinn slowly opened her eyes, gripping whatever she was holding onto tightly. It was happening again. The dreams were becoming more persistent. Every time she closed her eyes she was bombarded with a memory of her previous mistress. Her dead lover. Dead because of her inability to control her vicious and malicious temper.

She briefly rubbed her neck where a collar had once occupied the pale skin there. Submissive collars are connected to their dominant's life essence so to speak. When the dominant dies or severs ties to their submissive, the collar will break off into a million pieces and get lost in the wind. It was extremely painful for the submissive both emotionally and physically. Some had collars that shocked on disobedience, but her former mistress wasn't cruel.

She felt nauseous as she studied her scarred hands. She brought her hand up and traced the scar on her lip softly as memories of bloodshed invaded her racing mind. She could still smell the blood in her nose. She could still taste the blood on her lips. She could still hear the screams ring in her sensitive ears. She dug the palms of her hands into her eyes as she staggered into the hallway. She missed her previous mistress terribly. Her heart ached. She was angry. She was sad. She was damaged.

She was broken.

She ignored the fearful looks of other subs as she pushed through the hallway upon detecting Rachel's scent. Much like she always was when she woke from one of her 'nightmares' she was uncoordinated and nauseous. A throbbing heartache paired with a migraine was not pleasant. Her elongated nails and fangs throbbed beneath her fingertips and gums. She shook her head. The cool air would do her well.

Her new mistress's scent was beginning to grow much stronger as she neared the front doors. Luckily the school day was over. She pushed open the doors and saw her mistress dancing on the tips of her toes like a small child. Her skirt and long brown hair twirled with her ballerina like movements. There was a beautiful smile on her equally beautiful face, eyes lit up like candles in the dark. Rachel Berry is absolutely beautiful.

But Rachel Berry was painful to look at.

She just looked_ so_ much like her…they could've been sisters,_ twins_ even. The same long brown hair, dark eyes, small stature, and wide smiles… It was like looking into the past. But their scents were different, very different.

Whereas she smelled of raspberries and cashmere, Rachel smelled of coconuts and shea butter.

"Quinn, I have much so much to tell you!" She chirped as Quinn instinctively reached out and took her bag and held it in one strong arm and took Rachel's books in the other. Quinn only carried a binder and she opted to leave it in her locker when she didn't get homework.

"I've made a friend and ridden a horse all in the same day." Rachel said, looking up at Quinn with such excited eyes, her broken heart skips a little beat. She keeps her face neutral, looking down at her expectantly.

"I was out on the football field during first period and I met a girl Dominant named Brittany and her Submissive Santana. Santana is a draft horse and she's absolutely exquisite."

Quinn snorted. She's seen Santana around before. She was a fiery little thing, that one. "She offered to give me a lift to class, literally!"

"You weren't in class? Why?" Quinn asked in her usual soft, but gruff voice.

"It doesn't matter." Rachel said a little defensively.

Quinn could sense a change in her mistress's demeanor so she shuffled the Chemistry text book and the bag in one hand before tapping Rachel's shoulder for permission. Rachel nodded, leaning into her sub's side as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, growling at a group of dominant cheerleaders loitering around the entrance.

A hyena sitting near his dominant's side growled back, but shut up when he saw who it was. He quickly turned the other way. Rachel sighed when she recognized the red-head from earlier, but the red-head said nothing, instead admiring Quinn as they walked by.

She twirled a lock of hair around her manicured finger. She was a dominant without a submissive due to lack of interest in the ones around school, but Quinn Fabray was something else.

She was strong, beautiful, and everything one could want in a submissive._ Rachel_ fucking_ Berry_ did not deserve her. She licked her lips as a twisted grin formed on her full lips.

She wanted _Quinn Fabray_.

And she _always_ gets what she wants.

* * *

_**Bitches are always trying to ruin something. School started so updating may be a little slow. R&R, its greatly appreciated**_.


	4. Coronation

"- of course I told her Barbra Streisand. Barbra Streisand is such a phenomenal actress! I've watched all of her productions. I can quote every line from Funny Girl and Wicked on a whim."

Quinn exhaled loudly through her nose. A very persistent fly buzzed about, insisting on using her muzzle as a place to rest. She ignored Rachel's amused chuckle, using her massive paws to swat away the current bane of her existence.

She growled lowly as the snow from earlier showers clung to the pads beneath her paws, large blocks of ice lodging themselves in between her claws. She really hated the winter. She'd normally shift into her human form to avoid such problems, but it was deathly cold and she hadn't brought a jacket for some ill-advised reason. A lion wasn't particularly built to withstand such cold climates, but her increased body temperature helped a bit.

Rachel was clad in a dark green parka, comfortable black tights and tan Ugg boots. A lighter green cashmere scarf was wrapped around her neck, and mitt gloves adorned her hands. She'd had enough sense to forgo a skirt today.

She continued to gush about Broadway as they walked to school. It was much too cold and icy for Rachel to drive. They had her to clear the roads from the slush. Quinn's occasional ear flicks and the whipping of her tail concluded she was indeed listening to Rachel, much the the brunette's appreciation.

"- I was six and oh my goodness!"

"Look out!"

Quinn and Rachel quickly vacated the spot they were previously standing as a large, black horse skidded past them on stubby, unstable limbs, Brittany clinging onto her back for dear life. Quinn watched, unamused as the horse crashed into a rather high pile of shoveled snow.

The old man who'd been clearing his precious garden of the frost thrust his shovel onto the ground in exasperation, throwing up his hands in defeat as he trudged back into his home. Brittany was laughing gleefully as she rose to her feet, cheeks flushed and her knit beanie hanging off of her head. She was nearly in tears, she was laughing so hard.

Santana grunted in exertion as she tried for the umpteenth time to rise to her feet, but her horseshoes made it nearly impossible. She flopped back down, collapsing under her own massive body weight.

"I told you this was a bad idea." Brittany guffawed.

Santana looked at her pleadingly. Brittany rubbed her sub's snout as she nodded her head in approval. With a neigh of discomfort, Santana shifted into her human form.

Now, Santana's approximately sixty-six to sixty-eight inches tall and probably weighs over 900 kilos (2,000 pounds) in all her Submissive glory. Rachel expected her to be a woman of impressive height and a solid build, but here's a small girl not much taller than herself!

She looked to be of Hispanic descent, but with a mixture of something more. Her hair was as dark as her horse's hide, and nearly as long, reaching her lower back in glossy black waves. Her bronzed skin contrasted greatly with the pale snow, full lips pulled back into a grimace of discomfort irritation. Dark brows were furrowed over equally dark eyes in irritation.

She wore a grey hoodie and simple black skinny jeans with expensive name brand shoes Rachel didn't know the name off, but were very popular with the athletic teams. The clothes were simple, but the beauty of this girl made them seem like they were of Gucci and Prada status.

"What're you looking at fluffy?" She snapped at Quinn, who sat on her haunches glaring daggers at the dark-haired woman. Quinn growled menacingly, baring her teeth in challenge.

"Shush Quinn. It's rude to growl at people," Rachel chided, wagging her finger in front of Quinn's nose like she was a disobedient puppy. The nerve of this girl! Quinn admired her fearlessness at times, but not at this particular moment. "I'm Rachel Berry." She said excitedly to Santana.

"We've met before. I rode you, remember?"

Either Rachel didn't notice the possible double meaning to her statement or she chose to ignore it. Santana stared at her hand with her lip curled in contempt. "I know, Berry. Everyone knows who you are."

Rachel smiled. "I figured, but I thought it would be polite to properly introduce myself to you. You have a very beautiful Submissive form. May I ask what particular breed of draft horse you are? I did some research on them after class yesterday. However, you do not resemble the Persian breed." She rambled.

"Oh, that's because she's a Belgian Draft horse." Brittany cut in excitedly as she gazed fondly at Santana, who stared at Rachel with a bewildered look in her dark eyes. "She's so strong. She can pull almost anything. One summer, my car broke down at the gas station, and she was able to pull it all the way home. Luckily I keep her hitching gear in my trunk."

Quinn and Santana groaned loudly as their Dominants indulged themselves in animated, fast paced chatter. Quinn rolled onto her back in annoyance as Santana squatted down and began to dust the snow from her expensive shoes. "Control your midget, Kovu." Santana spat.

Swiping a massive paw-full of snow into Santana's face, Quinn flicked her tail in satisfaction. "Oh, you're so dead!"

Eventually, Rachel's phone chimed, signaling she had exactly fifteen minutes to get to school. She had a specific morning ritual. She'd get up at five thirty, exercise, shower and dress by six fifteen, eat and be walking out the door by six-forty five. She liked to be at school at exactly seven so she could have the auditorium to herself.

She was very serious about her punctuality and maintains her perfect attendance. She's never missed a day of school a day in her life! She snapped her head around to her submissive and frowned. Santana had Quinn in a very professional head-lock while bearing multiple scratch marks, and Quinn has a mouthful of her long, black locks.

"Quinn! Stop dawdling! We're going to be late!" She snapped.

Santana hadn't thought it would be possible for a lion to face-palm. She was proved wrong.

K/C-PWF

"I hope you're happy, Kovu. My fucking hair smells like lion breath." Santana growled as the two subs made their way to their first period class, which they unfortunately shared as of now due to a schedule change on Santana's part. Quinn just rolled her eyes.

Submissive History 3-4 wasn't the most fun subject, but it did give insight on their history, famous submissive icons, and laws.

They walked into the half full class, making a beeline for the back row. They'd rather sit next to each other than have to endure those other idiots. They sat seven inches apart, both crossing their arms and glaring daggers at the Mohawk boy approaching them.

"Sup ladies." He said smoothly, taking the seat a row over.

"Go play in traffick, mutt." Santana spat, pulling a nail filer from seemingly out of nowhere.

Noah Puckerman was the Submissive to a nerdy, big lipped boy named Sam Evans. He'd been appalled that his Dominant was a man instead of his beloved women, but he grew to like him. He still flirted with women, but never taking it further, not that Sam minded. He was incredibly nice and rather good looking. He was a bulky Rottweiler with long hair between his ears, simulating his Mohawk.

"So hostile. What about you blondie? You want to take the Puckenator for a spin?" He said, waggling his eyebrows.

He didn't know how he ended up getting sent to the nurse with a broken thumb, he just knew it hurt.

K/C-PWF

"You need to collar Ms. Fabray as soon as possible. I would advise a Shocker. Her temper is out of control. She is a danger to herself as well as other students." Principle Figgins said as Rachel and Quinn sat in his office following the incident.

Quinn was sitting rim-rod straight in her chair, arms and legs crossed as she kept her eyes trained on the floor. Rachel sat beside her, watching cautiously as the way her muscles clenched with vicious intensity.

"Have you discussed a collar?" He asked.

Rachel mutely shook her head as Quinn began to two her foot impatiently. He sighed as he dug through his drawer, pulling out a jet black whip. He wordlessly handed the whip to Rachel as he gestured for them to leave.

Rachel felt sick. She knew what she had to do. As she and Quinn walked over to the D room she counted down from a million to try and calm her anxiety.

They walked silently down the D row. Rachel could hear the cracks of whips as other Dominants disciplined their subs. It wasn't cruel, it was a way of life. It's how bonds were formed and strengthened.

They found an empty room. Quinn wordlessly took off her shirt and sank to her knees.

10 lashes for a minor offense.

15 for medium, and so on.

Violence amongst subs was not tolerated. Her punishment was 25.

"Quinn, you have to learn how to control your temper-" Rachel began.

"Just hit me please." Quinn said, flinching internally as Rachel uttered those strikingly familiar words.

She didn't even feel the first fifteen.

K/C-PWF

Quinn needed Rachel to be strong. Rachel, undoubtedly, had a pure heart. She was strong, she was fearless, but could she be a leader? Could she be a dominant?

She heard all the horrible things many said about her dominant, but she believed Rachel was chosen specifically for her. She believed things happened for a reason and this was simply Fate.

She held the sobbing brunette in her arms as her back vaguely throbbed. Rachel would grow out of it.

K/C-PWF

To be continued...


	5. Back From the Dead

It stalked through the deserted hallways, its long black nails clicking noisily upon the shiny marble floor. Its jaws were parted slightly, tasting the air as it lazily flicked its tail from side to side. A deep, rumbling growl erupted from its throat as it picked up on the scent it had been tracking for some time now.

It grew stronger as it neared the end of the hallway where two large red doors were slightly parted open, indicating someone had entered not long before. It sniffed the sides of the doors momentarily before using its broad muzzle to push the doors open and squeeze its skeletal frame in between them.

It had no trouble navigating through the darkness with its excellent night vision. The scent was overwhelming at this point, and it knew its target was in this very room. It crawled in between a few rows of empty chairs as its current victim made herself visible by climbing up onto the auditorium stage, standing at its center and taking deep, calming breaths.

The beast's wild amber eyes sparkled with interest as it lowered its head, flattening its right ear against the top of its head. It hadn't been the person it had been looking for, but this girl reeked of her presence. It licked its lips malevolently.

After listening to the girl sing her little heart out, it decided to make its presence known. It let out a loud, rumbling growl. The girl froze instantly, her brown eyes flicking towards the opened auditorium doors fearfully. "Quinn?"

So she did know know the person the beast was looking for. It tilted its head to the side curiously. _Had the big bad lion been claimed already? And by such a tiny, fragile looking human?_ It shook its head disapprovingly. _The lion should have figured out by now that having such fragile mistresses never ended well..._

It growled again, and the scent of the girl's fear was so strong, it could practically taste it.

"Quinn? Is that you?" Her quiet voice inquired once more. However, she knew the source of the growling didn't come from her broody submissive. It was deeper, scratchier, and filled with murderous intent. Sensing the girl was poised to make an attempt to escape, it burst from the shadows of the dimly lit auditorium with a menacing roar.

The girl let out a muffled scream as she lost her footing and fell gracelessly onto the cold, marble stage. Her heart nearly burst from her chest once she laid eyes on the terrifying creature that was slowly advancing on her.

It looked like something out of a horror movie. It had a unique feline appearance, but she couldn't pin-point its exact species. Its fur was black, but it wasn't the kind of black that glistened in the sun. It was the kind of black that devoured all light that touched it. A horrible, horizontal scar slashed across the bridge of its nose, right beneath its feral amber orbs.

Another horrible scar slashed across its chest. They were obviously claw marks, deep ones at that, molded into a intimidating X shaped formation. Its left ear was non-existent, only a tiny lump of flesh on the side of its head indicated it had once been there. Its tail was nothing but a stump that trailed behind its skeletal frame. Its tongue lolled out of its slightly crooked jaw lazily, wild eyes filled with sinister intent.

Rachel wanted to scream, but found no sound would come out. Perhaps it was wise to remain silent, or else she'd be nothing but a mangled corpse upon her beloved stage. The beast paused momentarily as its scrawny frame spasmed in preparation to shift into its humanoid form.

It was a young woman not much older than herself. Rachel could tell she had once been stunning, but years of torture and obvious madness had robbed her of most of it. Her skin, once a deeply bronzed tan, was deathly pale. Her cheekbones protruded from her delicate looking face, sharp enough to cut diamonds. Her frame was slight, clearly emaciated and Rachel could see every bone, every rib in her body.

Her hair was in perfect condition despite her sickly appearance, darker than even Santana's hide, and falling into curly ringlets down her back. Her Mulatto features twisted into a cruel smile that was all teeth. She crouched down before Rachel. "You're not the person I was looking for." She said in a disappointed monotone.

Rachel was too afraid to reply. She could barely hear her over the roaring in her ears and the rapid beating of her heart. The woman idly rubbed the scar on her nose.

"Tell me little human, do you have any relation to Quinn Fabray?" She cooed.

What does she want with Quinn? Rachel thought curiously. She cleared her throat.

"I am her dominant, Rachel Berry. A-and you are?" She stuttered.

The woman blew a dark strand of hair from her eyes, ignoring her question completely. She studied Rachel's face intently.

_She looks just like _her._ Just what is your purpose, Fabray?_ The woman meekly wondered. Her hand suddenly shot out, roughly gripping Rachel's chin in between long, taloned fingers. She turned Rachel's head from side to side. _Exactly like her indeed._

"What do you want with Quinn?" Rachel said, praising herself for not stuttering.

"We have some catching up to do!" She said joyously, manically. "A reunion amongst old friends."

Rachel didn't believe her for even a single second. She noticed the cruel sparkle in her eyes when Quinn's name left her lips. Her gaze suddenly turned serious.

"She took something from me and return I shall take something from her. You'll do nicely." She growled, intent on sinking her fangs into Rachel's neck before she was suddenly knocked to the side.

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed, relieved. Quinn stepped in front of her protectively, golden eyes furious.

The woman smiled again, setting herself upright. "Quinn! We were just talking about you."

Quinn snarled. "Stay away from her, Cairo."

The woman, Cairo, pouted. "But she and I were having so much fun. Its almost like talking to Le-"

"Don't you fucking dare say _her_ name!" Quinn roared.

Cairo rose to her feet slowly, amber eyes trained on Rachel. Quinn's eyes never left her. Quinn's body was shaking with rage as memories flooded into her mind at the sight of this… _monster_ from her past. She hadn't seen her former best friend since her previous Dominant's death two years ago. She had disappeared not long after. Her family had been devastated, thinking their youngest had perished along with the woman.

She had been walking to the auditorium to get Rachel when she picked up on the familiar earthy scent. She hadn't believed it to be possible that this woman could be alive, but seeing her standing not even six feet away from her was like stepping into her nightmares. She felt the bile rise in her throat at the horrible scars the the woman bore. Scars from wounds s_he_ had inflicted all those years ago.

Before Cairo could say anything the door bursted open and a pack of students piled in, indulged in animated chatter. Quinn's eyes darted to them momentarily, and when she looked back, Cairo was gone. Vanished into thin air like she wasn't even there to begin with. She felt Rachel's shaking form press against her and she gathered her into her arms, ignoring the odd looks the students gave them.

She sank to her knees as she buried her face into Rachel's hair, feeling her own emotions get the best of her.

T_his can't be happening. This can't be happening!_ _Cairo was dangerous, unstable, and capable of sinister things. And she'd been so close to Rachel!_ Quinn didn't think she could take losing another Dom.

But she knew if the time came, she wouldn't be able to protect Rachel from the demon that was Cairo Prince.

K/C-PWF

Cairo smiled as she hummed to herself, eyeing the blood caked under her talons from Rachel's cheeks. She honestly hadn't meant to injure the girl, but she didn't know her own strength. She licked her fingers clean of the blood, savoring the taste. She loved the taste of blood and human flesh.

She couldn't believe her luck! She'd been tracking Quinn for weeks, and she'd been intent on killing her the first chance she got. But an even better opportunity came along with the presence of the little human! Oh, what fun she could have. She'd make Quinn suffer for everything she's done. Her actions would not be forgiven or forgotten.

Her Dominant had always told her not to play with her food. Well, before her Dominant had _become_ her food.

K/C-PWF

I_'ve always had an obsession with insanity, serial killers, psychopaths, and just downright sick motherfuckers. Their characters are just so… interesting. Bellatrix Black being one of my favorite characters. Anyway, what does the return of this sick bastard mean for Rachel and Quinn?_

_Nothing good most likely._

_More on Quinn's past next chapter, sorry it's so short. Next one will be much longer._


	6. The Forgotten Prince

_Quinn looked up at her father as he shook a red-headed woman's hand, a fake smile plastered on his sharp, angular features. She noticed the iron grip in which the woman engulfed his hand in, and Quinn knew she was aware of her father's false acceptance. His other hand was firmly clenched on the leash connected to the collar on her mother's neck._

_Judy resembled the perfect submissive. She sat perfectly still upon her haunches, back perfectly straight. Her tan pelt was groomed to perfection, sparkling green eyes watching her dominant's every move intently, waiting for his commands. Her tail was wrapped around Quinn's wrist in reassurance. Her elder sister, Frannie, was standing on the other side of her father, her beautiful face cool and expressionless, but Quinn could sense her anxiety._

_"Russell, " The red-head greeted softly, "It is good to see you again. You have a beautiful family."_

_Russell's eyes flashed with arrogance, his lips contorting into a impish grin. He placed his hand on his eldest daughter's shoulder firmly, ushering the teenager forward. His sharp gaze darted to the small party behind the red-head. Her wife, a snow leopard with intense blue eyes, glared back at him, her ears flattened against her head in distrust. He quickly averted his gaze._

_He cleared his throat. "I have come a proposition."_

_The woman's head tilted to the side curiously as he once again ushered his eldest daughter forward, objectifying her. "Oh? And what does this proposition entitle?"_

_"As you know, the Fabray name is well-known in the Dominant/Submissive world." He started. "As are the Princes. As two of the most powerful families in the BDSM world, a union amongst us will increase our power and influence immensely."_

_The leopard growled from her place on the couch, and Quinn's eyes locked onto a small ball of black fur cuddled into her chest. Its amber eyes met Quinn's curiously from her mother's embrace. It made a move to approach to nine year-old, but the leopard growled warningly, and it plopped back down, resting its head on its chubby paws._

_The red-haired woman, Gabriella Prince, raised an elegant eyebrow. The Princes were never ones to back down from an opportunity to secure the family's future. She wanted the absolute best for her six daughters and their future wives and daughters._

_"The union of our eldest will make us one of the most powerful and influential families in the world. I have come to offer your eldest my eldest's hand." He finished. Judy's ears drooped slightly, and Frannie stepped forward once more until she was standing in between both heads of the household._

_The leopard shot to her paws, causing the cub to topple over. Quinn, despite the seriousness of the situation, couldn't help but chuckle slightly. The leopard shifted into her humanoid form in record time. Her blue eyes were furious. "She's only thirteen! Our eldest is nearly eighteen."_

_Gabriella Prince raised a well-manicured hand, and the woman instantly shut up. She picked up the small cub and rubbed in between its ears soothingly._

_"She's right. She's practically still a child, and my eldest is nearly and adult."_

_Frannie cleared her throat. "I am willing to do anything to ensure my family's future. I have no objections to my father's request. I only hope your eldest will accept my hand in both marriage and dominance." She said quietly but surely, lifting up the sleeve of her dress to reveal the tattoo that symboled dominance._

_The head of the Prince household was silent for long moments. Russell's smirk made her feel ill, but she couldn't deny the perks of marrying the two. Her eldest daughter had been without a dominant all her life, and young Francine seemed rather promising. She briefly looked at Russell's youngest daughter, little Lucy. Lucy was the spitting image of her mother._

_She looked to be roughly the age of her youngest, Cairo. The little black panther had been making the little blonde giggle the entire time with her playful antics. The union between Francine and her eldest would surely secure both of their futures both economically and they would grow together, and once the two promising submissives found their respective dominant, the possibilities would be endless._

_"Very well, I take you upon your offer, Russell. Francine shall marry Angel."_

-K/C-PWF

That'd been the first time Quinn had seen Cairo Prince. Her sister was married to the eldest Prince rather quickly, and the Dom/Sub world had been ecstatic. Norms were very prejudice towards the Dom/Sub community, and some laws even prevented them from going to certain places. There had even been quite a number of homicides involving Dom/Sub victims and human suspects.

Since the wedding, Quinn and her family spent a lot of time in the Prince Mansion. She and Cairo became very close very quickly, and had been inseparable for years. However, all of that changed when Quinn found her soulmate and her dominant when she was fourteen.

She reclined on Rachel's bed, rubbing her temples tiredly. They'd just returned from the school, and their encounter with eccentric woman had shaken them to their very cores, Quinn especially.

Rachel's been staring at her intently for fifteen minutes straight, demanding an explanation. She'd tell her what she could, but some things she wasn't quite ready to discuss.

"Quinn. Who is Cairo?" She asked quietly.

Quinn sighed. "I'm sure you heard of the Princes."

She nodded. "The all-female clan of Dom/Subs who only take female dominants and submissives. One of the richest, well-known, and most ancient houses in the world."

Quinn let a small smile form on her lips. Rachel was incredibly intelligent, and she liked that.

"When I was nine, my dad convinced Gabriella Prince to marry my older sister, Frannie, and their oldest, Angel. That'd been the first time I ever met Cairo, but she was Alex then. My birth name was Lucy, and we decided to go by our middle names because we thought they were boring." Quinn began.

Rachel made herself comfortable, laying her head on Quinn's shoulder, warmed by her high temperature. "Frannie was only thirteen and Angel was nineteen, but my dad overlooked her happiness for the family's own well-being. They'd attend all these formal dinners, and I was forced along with it, but I always had Cairo with me."

"You'd rarely find us apart. We glued at the hip, tied at the tails. We promised nothing would ever tear us apart, nothing. Not even death." She said fondly, mind drifting back to happier days as she idly toyed with Rachel's fingers.

"What happened?" Rachel asked.

"My soon-to-be dominant came into my life. I was fourteen, we were both fourteen. Cairo never liked the idea of being dominated by someone, and she tried to convince me to rebel against it. She believed all submissives were slaves. When she found out I had completely given myself to this woman, she was furious."

"But her entire family lives by the Dom/Sub lifestyle." Rachel pointed out.

Quinn nodded. "She hated it. It was always Sit, stay, roll over to her. She didn't see the true nature of our lifestyles. Hated her mother for it too. Gabriella Prince was harsh, but she was never cruel to her mom. When her mom died, she blamed it entirely on her mother. Said it was her fault."

"That's…" Rachel couldn't find the words.

"Got even worse when she became my official dominant." Quinn said, refusing to say her name. "We fought, verbally and physically all the time. But one day she just snapped."

"My previous dominant had collared me, with my permission and blessing of course. But Cairo saw it as ownership, slavery. She believed owning another human being was disgusting. She lunged at, ready to kill. She injured her, severely." Quinn shuddered slightly.

"Oh I was so mad. Cairo was my best friend, but I would die for that woman. And I would kill for her." Quinn paused, "I'd even kill my best friend to protect her."

"I nearly did. She was fierce, but I outmatched her in size and power, panther to a lion. I got away with only scratches and bruises. She wasn't supposed to survive the night. I lifted my dom into my arms as the rain began to fall." She choked out.

-K/C-PWF

_"Quinn!" Cairo gasped out, blood pouring from every crevice of her face as she shifted into her human form. "Don't leave me!" She cried as Quinn walked further and further away._

_Rain soaked her clothes, and she cradled her injured mistress to her chest protectively. She couldn't forgive her. She would never forgive her for hurting the most important thing in the world to her. She lifted her head as her former best friend's painful cries rang in her ears._

_"You promised! You said you would never leave me!" Cairo wailed. The gruesome wound on her chest burned with the fire of fury coursing through her veins. She screamed, enraged. It was all that woman's fault!_

_She banged her head on the concrete floor, feeling as though the devil crawled into her veins._

_"QUINN!"_

_But Quinn was already gone. She felt tears well in her livid amber eyes. She licked her fingers, feeling a wave of satisfaction and hunger course through her fallen state at the taste of blood that belonged to that bitch who stole her best friend._

_Her mauled ears flattened against her head. Quinn's scent was already washed away by the rain, her mom was dead, her mother was non-responsive. Her sisters all ran off with insufficient women who couldn't uphold the family name. The Princes had fallen from their throne. She was alone, and even the union between her oldest sister and Francine hadn't been strong enough to hold them. Russell betrayed them all, severing his ties to the Prince Clan and even denying his eldest daughter a return to the Fabray household._

_She only had Quinn. And now Quinn was gone._

_She laid her head on the ground, anticipating her death._

_But the rage and madness swirling in her mind kept her broken, dead heart beating._

_-K/C-PWF_

"I thought she died. _We all_ did. She couldn't have got up and _walked_ away, we thought the Norms may have taken her body away. Her mother didn't even bother looking for her body. Her sisters could care less, too caught up with their wives and daughters to care that their youngest sister had been killed by her best friend. There was no funeral, but the devastation was somehow still there."

Rachel felt near tears for what Quinn went through. But she had one last question on her mind.

"Quinn, what happened to your previous dominant?" She whispered.

Quinn threw her arm over her eyes. Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

"S-she d-died. I w-wasn't…" Quinn choked out. She took a few deep breaths.

"I- C-cairo." She tried again. "Apart of me was angry because she was the reason I killed m-my best friend. Bu-ut I-knew she would die anyway. She was suffering, choking to death on her own blood. I _had_ too…" She cried, face red from the extent of her crying.

"I-I d-don't know what Cairo wants specifically, but I know she wants me to suffer. She'll come for you. I-I-" Quinn gasped, but Rachel just cradled her head to her chest.

She was horrified, and she knew Quinn's deranged former best friend would stop at nothing to make sure she was dead. Now that she knew most of the story, she knew she could try and help Quinn heal.

Whether people believed it or not, she was Quinn's mistress, and her happiness was her own. She'd try and get Quinn to smile again. She would. Even there was a killer on the loose with a taste for her own flesh and blood.

K/C-PWF

_Oh, oh. The way Quinn killed her mistress was fucked up, you'll learn of it later. It's crazy what betrayal can do to someone. Like it was fucked up. Like on some Red Dead Redemption John Marston type fucked up. _


End file.
